A Hell With Heroes
by Alivyan
Summary: Alternate Universe Tour of Duty is here! Purcell signed up for a second tour and was transferred to a new platoon. This is the story of his second tour. *Chap 3 up!*
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** Purcell, Kuslits, Doc Hock, Griner, McKay, Johnson, Ruiz, Taylor, Anderson, and Goldman are not mine.  The rest are.

**Summary:**  Finally!  Alternate Universe Tour Of Duty is here!!  Here's the scoop: Kuslits never died and so Doc Hock is still friends with everyone, Griner's not blind, McKay's not shot, Johnson is still gone and Ruiz left for "The World", but Purcell stayed on for another tour and just got transferred to a new platoon.  This is Purcell's story of his new squad.  Mostly new characters, that is why I am also putting this in original "history" fiction on fictionpress… because of all the original characters.

Enjoy!

***

Purcell sighed and closed his eyes briefly when he heard the door to the hootch open and a crowd of complaining men enter.  He shifted his legs on his bunk until he was half-laying down, his legs sprawled out behind him and his elbows supporting his upper self.  An open magazine lay on his pillow, the content forgotten as he opened his eyes, his face bent downward to make it look like he was concentrating on the pages in front of him, and peeked at the noisy guys from the corner of his eyes.

There were four guys, all covered in sweat, dust and mud, and all in desperate need of a shower.  Two of them were fighting, hurling opinions and insults back and forth, and looking as if they wanted to hurl objects and fists as well.  One of them was black, tall, skinny, hair cut short to the head and dark brown eyes.  The other was white, with blond hair and deep blue eyes, not short and not tall.  He was the loudest, and the meanest looking.

Another guy was trying to get in between the two who were fighting.  He was also tall and white, with fiery red hair and blazing hazel eyes.  He had a broad forehead and square jaw, and he had this kind of look upon his face like nothing could ruffle his feathers, or make him lose his cool.  Except maybe the two fighting men in front of him.  He was holding each at arm's length, the peacemaker.

The last guy was the shortest, just a little shorter then Purcell, and had brown hair and brown eyes and a small goatee.  He payed no attention to the other guys, looking straight ahead when he entered the hootch and walking straight to his bunk, which was just across from Purcell's.  He didn't notice Purcell, however, as his gaze never wavered from his bunk, and he lay down upon it, boots and all, never saying a word to anyone.

Purcell's attention drifted back to the fighting guys, and it seemed like the redhead was finally getting things under control.  He lowered his eyes to the magazine, but concentrated on the conversation.

"Man, that is the last time I ever listen to you.  You nearly got us killed!  Punk."  That was the black guy.

"It wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to the Sarge's orders in the first place!  And you were the one who sneezed!  So what are you doing puttin' the blame on me?  It was all YOUR fault!!  Jerk."  Blond guy.

"I wouldn't have sneezed if you didn't lead us to that stinkin' place.  And if I recall you didn't hear the Sarge either."  Black guy.

"I WAS BEING SHOT AT!!!"

"Would y'all please just settle down?  It's over now and yer both still 'live.  And kickin'.  Just put it behind ya.  Arguing aint gonna change nothin'."  That was the redhead, smooth as could be.  "And lookie o'er there.  We got ourselves a newbie!"

Purcell's eyes widened slightly as he realized that he had been noticed for the first time.  He took a deep breath, and as calmly and casually as he could, turned a page in the magazine, seemingly uninterested in the other men.  He noticed with a grimace that the hootch was silent and all eyes were on him, including the quiet guy's, now sitting up on his bunk.  He could just envision the other guys' evil grins slowly spreading across their faces.  He heard footsteps approaching and looked up when the three guys sat on his bunk.

Blond guy: "Well, well, well.  What do we have here?  A cherry!  How nice!"

Black: *grunts* "Yeah, and another white one, at that.  Just what we need…"

Red: "Oh, cheer up, guy.  I'm sure he won't last long."

Black: "Yeah, probably be gone by the end of the week like ol' Bill.  Poor Bill.  Got shot up real good, he did."

Blond: "Uh-huh.  He was a newbie too.  Looked just like you, cherry.  Got shot up so much his body was beyond recognition.  Those VC are mean folk.  Show no mercy."

Black: "Yup, and they especially hate white guys, like you, cherry!"

Red: "White guys with dirty blond hair, just like yours.  Oh oh, this is not good.  Sorry to say it but the VC are really gonna hate you, newbie.  You won't last long, I'm afraid."

Black: "You'll be dead by tomorrow."

Blond: "Such a tragedy."

Red: "But no point in being all blue 'bout it.  Enjoy life, while you still have it!"

Purcell knew what they were doing.  He and Griner did it to the newbie's in his squad a while back…his old squad.  They were trying to scare him.  Purcell let them play their game for a while, then cleared his throat and said as off-handedly as he could, "My name's Purcell, and I'm not a newbie.  This is my second tour."

Silence fell over the hootch as all jaws dropped open in disbelief and all eyes widened slightly.  For a long while they stayed that way, none knowing what to say.  After a while, Purcell noticed that the three guys now looked at him with a kind of respect, knowing he had been through all and more then they had and he had survived.  But the fourth guy, the guy with the goatee, who never said a word yet, looked at him in disbelief, surprise, and a little horror.  He was probably wondering about Purcell's sanity.  Purcell was wondering about it too.

Oddly, it was the silent guy with the goatee who broke the silence.  The words came out in a hushed whisper, "Oh my gosh…Why?"

At this, Purcell looked down, unable to meet any guy's curious gaze as a lone tear slid down his check, as he remembered what he would never forget, a painful memory that forced him to do the unthinkable.

***


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** Purcell, Kuslits, Doc Hock, Griner, McKay, Johnson, Ruiz, Taylor, Anderson, and Goldman are not mine.  The rest are.

**Author's Note:**  More Au: You know in season 1, Purcell got that "Dear John"  letter from his girlfriend? (to peeps who watch TOD).  Well, in this universe, he never got it…and he and his girlfriend were engaged too.

***

Purcell cleared his throat slightly before shaking his head, wiping away the tear angrily, and looking up at his new squad.  "It doesn't matter why I signed up for a second tour.  I guess I just had nothing to go home to, really.  It doesn't matter.  As I said, my name's Danny Purcell, and you guys are…?"

The four guys finally seemed to snap out of the little trance they had fallen into.  The redhead gave a little smile before speaking up.  "Sorry.  We seems to have forgotten our manners.  I doubt these guys had them to begin with, though."  He said, indicating the blond and black guy.  "My name's William Houser, but you can call me Bill.  If ya want to.  You don't hafta.  Just that everyone calls me Bill, ya know?"

Purcell nodded and mentally stored the name.  Redhead – Bill.  He looked to the blond guy expectantly.

"Oh, you want my name now, do ya?  It's David Alfonso Irizarry-Acevedo.  Say that ten times fast."  The blondie flashed Purcell a lopsided grin.  _Oh great,_ he thought, _I'm never going to remember that.  I'm going to end up calling him "hey you" or something.  Why do people have to give their kids such long impossible-to-say-and-remember names?  Why can't they just name them Joe or something, and have a nice last name like Jones.  It would be so much easier for everyone._

The black guy jabbed Irizarry-Acevedo in the ribs and then turned to Purcell.  "Don't worry.  You don't hafta remember that name.  We dudes all call him "Ick".  Because he's icky.  Or Dave.  Or Loser.  You know, whatever works.  And you can call me Guy.  'Cause that's my name.  Guy.  Forgot my last name.  It doesn't matter though.  I didn't need a last name anyways."

Purcell raised his eyebrows and looked at Bill, who was rolling his eyes.  He smiled slightly, then glanced down at his magazine.  _This is really weird.  They all go by their first names.  In the old squad, we all went by last names.  _He looked up again and said, "Well, I guess you can call me Danny then.  What about that guy?"  He pointed to the man with the goatee, who was lying back down on his bunk again, still dressed in his boots and dirty uniform.  Everyone looked to where he was pointing.  Nobody said anything for a few seconds, then Bill grinned and got up, walking over to the guy and slapping him hard on the back.

"This here's Ray Miller.  He's a real party animal, this one.  Aren't you, Miller?"  Bill leaned over Miller's still form, but jumped back when Miller's hand shot out, desperately trying to slap Bill away.  Bill just chuckled, but walked away, and Miller became still again.  Bill came up to Purcell and sat down on the bunk beside his.  He leaned in close and lowered his voice to a whisper, meant for Purcell's ears only.  "You should probably just leave him alone.  He's our medic, and he's kinda having a bad time over here, ya know?"

Yeah, Purcell knew.  He wasn't exactly having the best time over he either.  Memories of his drug addiction came flooding back.  Memories of screaming and shaking and sweating and throwing up and, most of all, memories of pain.  He remembered exactly how it happened, every last detail.  Taylor, Ruiz, Johnson, and Doc Hock had tied him to his bunk with rope, which cut through his wrists and made them bleed.  They had talked to him, tried to help him, but he just insulted them and screamed at them in his hysterical state.  The pain seemed to be entirely in his chest and stomach, squeezing around his heart and suffocating him.  One moment he would be fine, and then the pain exploded in his chest and burned up his spine, leaving him screaming and struggling for breath.  Then the seizures would leave and he would be fine again.  This had lasted for over a day, an incredibly long day, and through it all, he remembered Doc Hock was at his side, never leaving, always talking to him and trying to help him.  He had hand-held Danny through the worst of his withdrawal.  He wondered where Doc Hock was now.

The hootch door slammed open and Danny snapped back to reality.  He looked up and saw Sergeant Nelson walk in, a cocky grin on his face.  Purcell closed his magazine and quickly stood up, the rest of the guys following except Miller, who seemed to have fallen asleep.  The Sarge walked slowly into the room and stopped in front of the small semi-circle of guys.  "Well, looks like you guys already met Purcell here.  That's good, 'cause I hate doin' introductions."  Nelson smiled and the other guys chuckled, obviously remembering some past event.  Purcell felt suddenly lonely and longed to go back to his old squad, to see all his old buddies…but he pushed those thoughts out of his mind.  He was in a new squad now.  He would just have to get used to that fact.  He concentrated on what Nelson was saying.  "I just thought you'd all like to know that we got a mission in a few days.  But until then, you can pretty much do whatever your twisted hearts desire."

The guys murmured some few things excitedly, but Purcell wasn't paying attention.  _Well, that's that.  My first mission with the new squad is coming up.  These guys seem kinda rowdy.  They better act like adults in the bush, 'cause I don't plan on getting killed out there by a bunch of kids!"_

***


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Purcell isn't mine.  The rest are.

**Author's note: **Well, here it is.  First day in the bush!  This is my first time ever writing a war story or any kind of action story, so if you have any advice or if I made any mistakes, please point them out so I can fix them! Cheers!

***

The Huey flew gracefully across the sky, the forest below looking distant and small.  _Funny, _Purcell thought, _that when you're on the ground, you crane your neck to look up at the huge, towering trees.  But up here, it all looks so small and unimportant.  Look at it.  It looks so green and peaceful!  How can a war be going on in such a nice place?  I wonder if Goldman is down there…_

Purcell sighed and turned his face away from the forest below, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against his gun.  No matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to get away from thinking about his old squad.  They were his family.  How could he just stop thinking about them when he had spent a year in hell with them?  He could never forget those guys, he just wished he could think about them without getting all caught up in feelings of sadness and regret.  _It will take time, but you will be able to do it._

The past few days had been interesting.  Purcell had come to know the guys a bit better, and found he kind of liked them.  They could be serious when they had to, and downright mischievous the rest of the time.  But Purcell had realized that that was what made them so fun to be around.  They knew how to have a good time, and they wanted to include everyone.  They were quite friendly and fun, once you got to know them.

Houser (Purcell had tried calling him Bill, but for some reason the name just didn't seem to suit him) reached over and poked Purcell on the arm.  "Hey man.  Don't think too hard…you might hurt yerself."

Purcell smiled.  "Don't worry, I'm not thinking.  I wouldn't do that."

Houser nodded.  "Yeah, you might end up thinking something smart.  That wouldn't be good.  Hey, I bet I'll live longer then you.  You probably won't last long out there.  You were only lucky on your first tour.  Nope, I'll be mourning o'er your body 'fore long!"

Purcell's eyebrows shot up.  "Why would you think I'd die first?"

"'Cause yer dumb!  C'mon, I betcha I will live longer then you."

"Fine!  It's a bet!"

"Winner gets all of the loser's cash and jungle boots, if they're still good."

"Alright."

They shook hands on it, chuckling and shaking their heads.  It lightened Purcell's mood, and he breathed easy again, thankful for the distraction.  _I just hope it didn't curse me, or something._

The Huey set them on the ground and took off, racing away back to base.  Purcell surveyed his surroundings.  _Wow, looks a lot greener from the air._  He took his gun and pointed it in front of him, than turned and looked for Lieutenant Griffis, a tall, lean guy with short brown hair.  The LT put Guy on point, although Guy had a few things to say about that.  They headed into the jungle and started searching for the enemy.  A typical reconnaissance and patrol mission: to go out into the jungle and see what you stumble across.  Purcell missed his days in the SOG team, and silently wished he would someday go back to the missions that actually had meaning.

They had walked a few klicks without incident when Guy's arm shot up, his hand curled in a fist.  Purcell lowered himself into a squatting position, never taking his eyes off of the surrounding countryside.  The Sarge and LT both made their way to the front of the line, and Purcell honed in on their conversation.

"What's up?"  The Sarge asked after looking ahead of Guy and seeing no apparent reason for the stop.

"Man, I'm beat.  I think I had a little too much to drink last night.  Can't we rest for a bit?  Please?"  Guy pleaded.

The LT gave Guy an annoyed look.  "We just started!  We've hardly covered any ground at all!  What's wrong with you?  You're tougher then this.  And you just had a few days off to rest!  Come on, get moving."

"Yeah, but I'm real hungry as well.  Just a short break?"

Dave spoke up from the back of the line, raising his voice louder then he probably should have.  "Yeah, I'm hungry too.  I missed breakfast!  Besides, Charlie will wait for us."

"Sure he will."  The LT shook his head, giving in.  "You guys sure are unique.  In a bad way.  We will take a short break.  Sergeant, you go scout ahead.  Unless you need a break too."

Nelson grinned.  "No sir, I should be fine.  Though…did you always have those bags under your eyes?"

The LT gave Nelson a deadly glare, and the Sarge slipped away, smiling, before he could say anything.  Lieutenant Griffis sighed loudly before shaking his head.  _How did I get stuck with a group like this?_

Purcell settled himself on the ground, his back to a tree.  He took out a C-ration can and opened it, smiling contentedly at the sweet aroma the peaches produced.  Beside him, Dave was nearly drooling.

"Oh sure, new guy gets the peaches.  How come I never get peaches?  I've been here nearly four months, and I've only got peaches once, man.  This aint fair!"

"Oh quit whining.  You're such a baby!  We're in Vietnam fighting a war and all you can think about is food and your stomach."  

"Thanks a lot, Danny.  Next time you get stuck with ham and lima beans, don't be expecting no sympathy from me!"

Danny shook his head, blocking out the stream of foul words that came from Dave's mouth.  Beside him, Miller was smiling slightly and poking fun at Houser's hair, which was shooting out at all angles.  Houser just punched Miller on the arm.  Purcell looked at the other guys.  Guy was sitting with a black man from another squad, talking in hushed voices about something.  He looked at the guys from the other squad, none of whom he had met yet, even though they were all in the same platoon.  None of them had approached him yet, asking who he was, so Purcell didn't ask them either.

Sitting a little away from the group was an interesting fellow, a Canadian.  This had perked Purcell's interest, as he didn't know that Canadians and Americans were put in the same unit.  He knew that Canada was staying out of the war in Vietnam, but he also knew that some Canadians sneaked into America and pretended to be Americans, just so they could enlist and come to Vietnam.  Purcell liked to listen to him as he talked because he had a tendency to say weird things, like "eh".  Purcell decided to go talk to him.  He looked like he could use some company.

Just as Purcell was about to go over to the Canadian, the LT stood up and said that the break was over.  Everyone groaned and complained.  Griffis just grinned and said that he said it was going to be short.  Purcell quickly stuffed the rest of his peaches into his mouth, annoyed that he wouldn't be able to savour the flavour.  The LT hesitated for a moment, then pointed at Purcell.

"You've got point."

Purcell nodded and got up.  He could hear people whispering behind him, wondering why the LT had put the newbie on point so early.  Purcell wanted to shout _I'm not a newbie!  This is my second tour!!_  But he kept quiet and moved to the front of the line.  The men fell into position behind him.

Purcell always hated being on point because he had to focus on the ground.  He seemed to have a tendency to look up at his surroundings all the time, instead of mainly focusing on the dirt.  Then he always got nervous, and had to slow almost to a stop to check the ground extra carefully.  Also, the walking was tedious.  To avoid falling into a punji pit or other contraption, he had to step up slowly, keeping his weight on his back foot and slowly transferring the weight to his front foot.  If he felt the ground give way, he should then be able to easily remove his foot before he committed too much pressure.  And that wasn't all.  To avoid tripping a wire, he turned his foot sideways slightly, dragging it along the ground.  If he felt anything on his ankle, he would know it was a wire.  This all made for some slow walking.

It seemed the LT was pleased with his work as the point man, because he kept him on point for most of the day.  The LT got his revenge on his men by making them go the rest of the day without any breaks or stops.  By the end of the afternoon, everyone was beat.

"Okay guys, hold up.  We're going to stay here for the night, so start digging in."

Muffled complaints and sighs followed.  Mostly everyone was too tired to dig a hole in the ground.  The LT grinned evilly at his men, pleased with the result of his revenge.  Some men mumbled less-then-pleasant things at Guy, as it was his fault that they hadn't stopped all day.  Guy just shrugged.

Purcell and Miller shared a hole.  It was kind of hard for Miller to dig as he was very petite and scrawny, so Purcell tried to dig extra hard.  By the time the hole was deep enough, Purcell was covered in sweat and panting heavily, too tired to do anything other then collapse to the ground.  Miller seemed to understand what Purcell did and smiled his thanks.

Darkness fell over the land, cooling the air.  It was quiet, except for Guy and Dave arguing over some pointless thing.  They were hushed by a few annoyed guys who, against their better judgement, had called out "SHUT UP!!!"  Everyone went quiet for fear that the enemy had heard, but after a while when nothing happened, they relaxed.  Purcell knew that the LT was going to have a few things to say about that come morning.  Glad that he didn't have first watch, he fell into a deep sleep.

***


End file.
